


in the place of you and me

by pinkhearteyes



Category: IT (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Character Study, Fluff, M/M, POV Outsider, Public Display of Affection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 18:00:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12846534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkhearteyes/pseuds/pinkhearteyes
Summary: At first glance, Richie Tozier and Eddie Kaspbrak seem to be very much in love.I have met neither of them before. But I have heard a great amount. What feels like thousands of stories have been told to me over the past months.





	in the place of you and me

**Author's Note:**

> honestly this has been in my head for ages

At first glance, Richie Tozier and Eddie Kaspbrak seem to be very much in love.  
  
I have met neither of them before. But I have heard a great amount. What feels like thousands of stories have been told to me over the past months.  
  
"I'm Richie. But you all probably knew that." Richie says as he sits down, introducing himself smoothly. Everyone at our table laughs, good-naturedly. His eyes catch on me, and he's reaching his hand out immediately. He may be foul-mouthed, at least if half the rumours I've heard are true, but he's apparently polite, too. He's never met me. I am merely a friend of Beverly's, and a rather new one, as well.  
  
I have gotten so swept up with Richie's entrance, undoubtedly charmed by his springy curls and dark eyes, that I almost don't notice Eddie sitting down next to him. Where Richie is sharp angles and gangly limbs, Eddie's face is gentle, and his smile is warm as he introduces himself to me. I shake his hand, and do the same.  
  
"Lovely name." He tells me, smiling. I feel my cheeks heat with a strange sort of pride, as if my name is a personal achievement of mine, and not just something I've been given.   
  
Richie and Eddie had arrived a bit late, and Eddie begins explaining why. The waiters fuss around our table, frustrated with us. No one seems to mind. Richie leans into Eddie's side as he laughs.  
  
"And this idiot over here has the nerve to say he's forgotten his wallet!"  
  
"I really had forgotten it!" Richie says, with a grin.  
  
"Bullshit." Eddie states, making Richie laugh again, clapping his hands together. A stern-looking waiter begins removing our menus.  
  
"Are you ready to order?" He asks, not having given us much of a choice. The stifled giggles of my group are contageous, and I find myself hiding a big grin behind my napkin.  
  
I feel much less like an intruder than I thought I would. Beverly has told me a lot about her friends. I know that these are her best childhood friends, and that they all try to meet up as often as possible. This time, it's been four months since they all gathered in the same room, busy with studies and jobs. That's why we're in the nice restaurant.  
  
"We usually just meet up to watch movies at someone's house." Beverly had told me as she pushed the restaurant's door open earlier, a happy look on her face, as if she was reminiscing on previous movie-nights with her friends.  
  
Eddie orders the crispy salmon, not seeming to need the menu at all. Richie on the other hand, looks the definition of confused, and leans in to whisper something in Eddie's ear. I ask for the garlic chicken linguine, and Richie looks to me.  
  
"I'll have the same thing, thank you." He says, before Eddie has time to answer whatever it was that he whispered. A question somewhere along the lines of "What the fuck was there on the menu?", I assume.  
  
As we wait for our food to arrive, I listen closely to a guy named Bill telling us about his new job. I am genuinely interested. It's work at a local newspaper, writing Sunday-morning stories. He writes down the number to the editorial office on a napkin, with a sharpie he's been carrying in his pocket.  
  
"You'd be a great addition to the team." He says, his voice steady and calm. I smile genuinely.  
  
"Bill and his books. When will the love story end?" Richie rests his head in his hands, an amused look playing on his face. I can tell this is an inside joke among them, from the way they nudge Bill playfully.  
  
The food that arrives is incredible, and everyone seems to agree. Richie looks at me after his first bite of pasta, and barely has time to chew before he's exclaiming.  
  
"This is fucking incredible!"  
  
His personality is lively and captivating. He has the whole group wrapped around his finger. His way of speaking to his friends is almost flirtatious, his eyes sparkling like those of a child's.  
  
I am incredibly fascinated with the way him and Eddie interact. They seem to quietly agree and disagree on everything, and when Eddie gets a call in the middle of dinner, Richie leans over to look at his lap. To see who's calling, I assume. Their shoulders brush together, and they almost lean into each other like puzzle pieces.  
  
"I am so sorry, I've got to take this."  
  
It's his mother, Richie tells us, when Eddie leaves the table, and the group seems to quiet down for a bit. I feel a pressure in the air surrounding our table, and I excuse myself to go to the bathroom. I pass Eddie on my way to the toilets. I'm not an intruder, and I don't listen out for his words. I hear him speak, though, in a hushed, almost angry tone. He's standing beside the big, artificial-looking plant near the door. He's rubbing at his temples. I slip into the bathroom.  
  
When I return to the table, Eddie is back, and the atmosphere is more relaxed. I am relieved. I don't know most of Beverly's friends enough to change the subject, or talk about myself long enough for everyone to shake off the feeling the unsettling phone call had left.  
  
We order dessert, and I find out me and Richie have something else in common, that's not a shared love for linguini. We're both smokers. Me, in social situations, such as this one. I tell him that. I want to be friends with Richie, as childish as it may sound.  
  
"Oh, that's better. I smoke too much. Eddie keeps telling me to stop." He says.  
  
I wonder what it must be like to have your life be so intertwined with another person's that you can barely have a conversation without bringing them up. I long for it. I have never had anything like it.  
  
He says something, and I am pulled from my thoughts.  
  
"What? Sorry."  
  
"Am I really that uninteresting?" He asks, but he's smiling.  
  
"I swear you're not."  
  
He's leaning against the brick wall. We're outside, by the trash containers. There's a few waitresses smoking as well, and even in the dim lighting of the lamps hanging above us, I can see them eyeing Richie. He doesn't seem to pay them any mind. We were granted access here thanks to Ben, who knows someone working at the restaurant. I am thankful of Ben. I have met him more than the rest of the friends. He is helpful and lovely. I can see why Beverly has a soft spot for him.  
  
No one has explicitly told me Eddie and Richie are a couple, but as Richie swipes through his phone gallery to show me a picture of something - what, I didn't quite catch - I see a few pictures of a curly head against blue bedsheets, and I doubt it is Richie's own. These are curls I have seen filtered through the plastic leaves of the restaurant lobby's plant. I am very observant, my mother used to tell me so.  
  
When I come to think of it, I realise Beverly's stories have been detailed, but carefully so. Delicately worded, always thought-out. Still, it isn't hard to figure out, with the way Richie's eyes go soft at the mention of Eddie's name.  
  
He shows me pictures of the view from his balcony. Their balcony, I figure. Then, a picture of a distressed-looking Eddie eating cereal. There's a story behind that picture, that Richie explains to me, gesticulating wildly. The smile doesn't leave his lips until long after his phone is pocketed and our cigarettes are stubbed out against the brick wall. The gossiping waitresses had left a while before us, casting longing glances at Richie over their shoulders.  
  
When we return, dessert is on the table, and Richie kisses Eddie on the cheek as he sits down.  
  
Half an hour later, I am pleasantly full, the sweet taste of crème brûlée on the tip of my tongue. We split the check. Eddie asks if we want to stay at their place for a little while, and Richie gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze. I am happy, and in on the idea. Mike, and Ben have to leave us then. Mike has work the next day, and Ben is going to visit his mother when he's in town.  
  
The apartment isn't far from the restaurant by foot. It's getting chillier, and darker outside, and I can see the faint stars in the night sky. I walk beside Beverly, talking to Stan. In front of us, Richie slips his hand into Eddie's, and points with his other hand up to the sky. Eddie giggles, like there's some inside joke about space they share. The smile Richie offers Eddie is gentle, so warm I almost feel like I don't need my jacket in the cold night.  
  
There's a ginger cat in the apartment building's lobby, and I crouch down to pet it. When I look up, the entire group is smiling at me. I laugh a little. I am reminded of my cats at home.  
  
When we first step into the apartment, Eddie groans.  
  
"I thought you said you picked these up." He kicks at a little pile of clothes by the door.  
  
"Oh shit. I thought so too." Richie toes his shoes off, a big grin on his face. I let out a snorting little laugh, and Richie turns to me, looking pleased.  
  
"Fucking move them, we have guests over."  
  
"Anything for you, babe." Richie leans in to kiss at Eddie's cheek - Something they seem to do often, I notice - but Eddie shoves him away. Richie laughs on his way to the bedroom, clothes in his arms, and I see Eddie fighting a smile. It's incredibly fond. Eddie could slap Richie across the face, and somehow make it look romantic. I am sure Richie would only smile.  
  
Stan starts up a game of Uno in the living room. I am asked to join, but I shake my head.  
  
"I'll play the next round. Promise."  
  
I join Eddie in the kitchen instead.  
  
He pops his head out through the kitchen door, to ask: "Who wants wine?"  
  
"Red for me!" Beverly shouts back.  
  
I ask Eddie if he wants any help.  
  
"Do you mind taking the wine glasses out from the cupboard? Third shelf, above the sink." He says, struggling a little with the wine cork.  
  
When I open the cupboard, a selection of random mugs stare back at me. There's mugs with Winnie the Pooh, and Star Wars. My eye catches on two mugs in particular. One is blue, and the other pink; "His" and "Hers" spelled out in cursive letters. I giggle.  
  
"I like the mugs."  
  
"Oh god. You mean the his and hers ones? Richie got them for Valentine's day. I bet he felt real clever." Eddie sighs, finally getting the cork out. There's a softness to his voice that I've heard time and time again this night.  
  
"Your place is really nice." I say then, and mean it.  
  
"Thank you." Eddie says, genuinely.  
  
"How long have you lived here?"  
  
Eddie pours some red wine in three glasses.  
  
"Oh, almost two years now." He answers. I nod, not really knowing what to say.  
  
"Lovely."  
  
"I got lucky." He replies, and before I can comment, he asks what kind of wine I want. He pours me a glass of red. I help him hand them out in the living room. Red for Beverly, Bill, Eddie and myself. Eddie hands Richie his glass of white wine, and Richie's eyes light up.  
  
"Thank you." He says, softly. He presents his cheek to Eddie, for a gentle kiss, and it feels so intimate I have to turn my gaze away. What is with them and cheek kisses, I don't know. Again, my heart gives a little throb. I hope to have something like that one day.  
  
The same game of Uno is still going on, Beverly screeching out "Uno!" as often as possible, her face falling every time she has to pick up another card. While we wait for our turn, I go to the bathroom.  
  
The bathroom cabinet's door is open. I go to close it, but not before looking in. There's regular stuff, toothpaste, cologne. A roll of scotch tape looks misplaced but undoubtedly there, on the third shelf. When I close the cabinet I notice a picture taped to the mirror. It's a picture someone's taken of Richie and Eddie at what looks like a party. Richie is cupping Eddie's face, smiling at him. Eddie is making a face at the camera. In the corner of the picture, I spot Beverly, doing a thumbs-up. I smile a little to myself.  
  
When I return, they're handing out cards for a new round of Uno. I had promised to play, and I will. Stan is celebrating his win, knocking his wine glass against everyone else's. I laugh along with him.  
Richie comes across a slightly ripped card in the pack.  
"Fuck! Where's the tape?"  
  
Eddie sighs.  
  
"Probably where you left it."  
  
Richie grins a little.  
  
"Oh yeah." He never gets up to find the tape, only shuffles the ripped card with the other ones.  
  
We play, and we laugh. Stan and Beverly sit on the couch. Beverly a bit more upset about it. She had lost in rock paper scissors to Bill, who is now sitting in our card-playing circle, looking pleased.  
  
I think to myself, that Beverly might as well join. I notice Richie and Eddie sitting close together anyway, whispering to each other. When I put my card down, Eddie's eyes widen with disappointment. Richie sneaks one of his cards into his hand. I notice, but no one else seems to, and I don't tell. I end up winning anyway.  
  
As I am about to leave, my mother calls me. I haven't seen her in a little while, and I miss her. I miss my home town a bit, after being with Beverly and the friends she has known for years and years. I tell my mother I've spent the night with friends. She is delighted. I pace around in the hallway while we talk on the phone. There's a few vinyls propped up on the table, right behind the fruit bowl full of keys. More pictures are blue-tacked to the wall. A ripped band poster, with a sharpie signature in the bottom right corner. A stock photo of a golden retriever. A polaroid of two intertwined hands.  
  
When I leave, Richie hugs me tight, and Eddie hugs me gently. Beverly is behind me outside the door, already asking about possible junk food we could stop by and get. I tell Richie and Eddie I've had a lovely time tonight. They smile, in unision. Richie's cheeks are a little flushed, and his freckles stand out in the light spilling out of their apartment. Eddie's hair looks less proper than it had at the restaurant, neat swirls gone a little mussed.  
  
They wave goodbye from the doorway, and I wave back. I hope to see them soon again. I see Richie's hand on the small of Eddie's back, before the door closes. I think, to myself, that they might listen to their vinyls and play card games, now that everyone's left. I imagine them taking polaroids, and brushing their teeth, crawling into bed and only crawling out when the world asks it of them.  
  
I sigh. One day I might have what they do. I am reminded of Eddie's words in the kitchen.  
  
"I got lucky."  
  
They did. 

**Author's Note:**

> honestly @okayrichie has contributed to this so much and this short silly fic wouldn't be what it is without her ilysm


End file.
